


My Hero

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adorable Sherlock, Canon-Typical Violence, John is Perfect, M/M, Sherlock is perfect, Super!John, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: Sherlock has a superhero on his side.





	

"John!" said Sherlock, barging into the army doctor's bedroom, eyes glued to the screen of his phone. "Lestrade's just texted me. The Skinner's committed another murder."

The Skinner was the latest serial murderer in London. His moniker was for obvious reasons.

John was tying his shoelaces. "Sorry, Sherlock. Have to go into the clinic. Someone's out sick, ironically enough."

"But John, I need you to come along," whined Sherlock. John _always_ seemed to be out these days instead of spending time with _him_ , like he was meant to. At least he wasn't wasting his time with those awful girlfriends anymore.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock, it can't be helped," said John, shrugging as he stood up. "You'll be able to solve the case with me. Just try not to piss Lestrade off too much, okay?" He winked at Sherlock cheekily as he passed him on the way out.

Sherlock slumped in disappointment. Not just because John was leaving, but also because his wink had made his heart and stomach do those funny fluttery things. Sherlock was 93% sure he was in love with his flatmate. Not that John cared. Or even knew. He just thought they were friends. He probably didn't even realize how his playful quips affected the consulting detective.

Then there was the problem of the Justice Warrior.

The Justice Warrior had turned up some weeks ago, about the same time John and Sherlock had moved in together. He was a masked superhero, strong, fast, invincible. The whole of London loved him.

And he seemed to be especially interested in Sherlock.

The detective had first encountered the caped crusader one day when he had been getting mugged in an alleyway (an undercover job gone wrong). The mugger had taken out a gun and was preparing to shoot. Sherlock was totally defenseless. When suddenly-

A red and blue shape swooped in, a barrier between Sherlock and his assailant. "Now, gents, what's this argy-bargy all about?" said the new arrival in a calm, commanding tenor.

Sherlock's eyed widened at the hero's caped back. So  _this_ was the famous Justice Warrior he'd heard so much about. Funny, Sherlock thought he'd have been taller than 5'7...

The mugger, in surprise, fired straight at the Warrior. The bullet bounced harmlessly off his chest.

The Warrior casually rolled his eyes, mildly annoyed. "Seriously?" He began to march toward the mugger.

The mugger continued to fire, but his efforts were useless. The Warrior got to him and grabbed his gun, squeezing it into a useless lump of metal in his bare fist. Then in a quick, impressive, smooth move, he had the mugger in a harmless yet incapacitating headlock. "Bulletproof skin, mate - haven't you heard?" asked the Warrior. Then he looked up at the consulting detective. "You alright?" he asked, care coloring his warm voice.

Sherlock, wide-eyed, wordlessly nodded.

"Good," smiled the Warrior. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a package to drop off at Scotland Yard." With the mugger tucked under his arm, the Warrior began to rise into the air. "See you around," he said to Sherlock, then flew away.

Sherlock stared after him, open-mouthed. He'd heard how impressed everyone was with the Justice Warrior (Donovan had a swooning infatuation with him, and Anderson had started his own fan club), and now he completely understood. The Justice Warrior certainly was no John Watson, but...Sherlock felt himself grow a tiny crush on the superhero.

In the weeks that followed, Sherlock inevitably kept getting himself in peril (perhaps not entirely accidentally), and the Warrior kept sweeping in to save the day. Like Sherlock's own private bodyguard. "Are you stalking me?" he asked the Warrior one day when he'd been saved from being waterlogged by some mob members.

The Warrior just smiled at him flirtatiously, neatly tying up the last of the baddies. "Danger seems to be attracted to you, Mister Holmes. But maybe it's not the only thing." Then he flew away, leaving Sherlock with a serious case of arrhythmia.

"John, you keep missing it!" Sherlock had complained to his flatmate that night. "I won't lie, the Justice Warrior is...pretty fantastic."

John just chuckled, flipping a page in his book. "Sounds like you're a bit in love, mate," he teased gently.

"I am not!" Sherlock said, his ears burning at the tips. He might be a little...infatuated. But there was only room enough in his heart for one particular man. Not that said man, who was sitting right across from himself, looking cozy and actually quite handsome in his hidous jumper, knew that.

So what if the Justice Warrior had a bit of...interest in him? It was flattering,  but Sherlock already had a perfectly good man. One who was devastatingly gorgeous and kind and brave and clever...and unfortunately heterosexual.

Tonight, Sherlock had managed to track the Skinner to where he believed he was hiding out. The detective found himself in the dank basement of an old abandoned building. It had once been a butcher shop, and to Sherlock' only slight discomfort, he found the Skinner's _trophies_ hanging in a meat freezer. Almost as if on display. He was proud of his kills then. Lovely.

"Hmm," Sherlock hummed under his breath in contemplation. He shone his torch on the dusty floor. "Footsteps...only one set. Leading in here. But none leading out. Which means..." Sherlock swallowed. "He's still here."

Someone grabbed him from behind, catching him by surprise. Sherlock tried to wrestle them off, but then he felt a tiny prick in the side of his neck. A needle, injecting him with something. Most likely the same temporary paralyzing agent the Skinner had injected all his victims with.

Sherlock felt the effects immediately and fell to the floor, limp and unable to move.

A shadow loomed over Sherlock and rolled him onto his back. Sherlock was unable to do anything except lie there. He felt the cool metal of a blade run over his cheek.

"Heh heh heh," he heard the Skinner cackle in the dark. "What pretty skin. It'll be the perfect addition to my collection."

Sherlock felt a hand grasp his leg and tried to kick out in defense, but was completely immobilized. His trouser leg was slowly rolled up...interesting. The agent took his ability to move his own limbs, but still allowed him to feel every sensation. Probably playing to the Skinner's sadistic tendencies. He wanted his victims to feel the pain.

Sherlock suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shin and realized the Skinner was flaying off the top layer of his flesh. "Help!" he cried out weakly.

"Ooh, I like it when they scream," the Skinner giggled. The knife dug in deeper.

"Sherlock!" In the weak light of his torch, Sherlock could make out the Justice Warrior grabbing the Skinner and pulling him away from Sherlock, holding him aloft in the air. The Warrior wrestled the knife out of the Skinner's hands. "Alright, you bastard. It's prison for you," growled the Warrior.

In a flash the superhero and the killer were gone and Sherlock was left alone lying on the cold hard floor. Then the Justice Warrior reappeared in a gusty _swoosh_. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed, leaning over Sherlock. "Can you move? Come on."

Suddenly Sherlock felt the Warrior lifting his limp body into his strong arms and slowly levitating out of the cellar. "Come on, Mister Holmes. We'll get you all patched up."

Sherlock felt warm butterflies flapping in his stomach as the Warrior flew with him out of the abandoned building and into the London sky. The Warrior was so _strong_...and he smelled like John's aftershave...Sherlock was sure with his superhearing, the Warrior could hear his wildly pounding heart.

After a minute or two, the Warrior set him down atop a building. "Here," said the superhero, rolling up Sherlock's trouser leg. "Let's have a look at that wound." He examined it. "Well, it's not too bad, but here, I'll bandage it up for you." From a secret pocket in his costume, the Warrior produced a small first aid kit.

Sherlock laughed awkwardly. All he could move was his face. "Are you a doctor now as well as a crime fighter?" he inquired.

The Warrior just flashed him one of those playful smiles. "Maybe. Can't you _deduce_ if I am or not?"

Sherlock blushed. "How do you know who I am, anyway? I've always wondered. I've never told you my name."

The Warrior chuckled to himself, as if he was appreciating a private joke. "Let's just say, I know the blog."

"Oh, my flatmate John's blog, you mean?" said Sherlock. "He's a sentimentalist, don't believe everything he says."

"He seems to think very highly of you," said the Warrior, gently bandaging Sherlock's leg. He must have _some_ medical training, it looked almost professional. From the eye holes cut in his red mask, his indigo colored eyes peeked at Sherlock with curiosity though his long lashes. They were the color of honey, just like John's. "So, uh...what's the story with you two, anyway?" the Warrior asked shyly. "Just friends, or...?"

Sherlock sighed, wiggling his toes in his shoes. He was starting to regain control of his body, the drug wearing off, and he could feel pins and needles in his muscles. "We're just friends. John's _not gay_ , as he's always screaming to the world."

"Maybe he's bi," suggested the Warrior. "Ever think of that?"

Sherlock had considered it before, but it seemed inane. "Well, he's much too good for me anyway, so what's the point in dwelling on the subject?"

The superhero froze and stared at him. "Hey." He put his hand on Sherlock's knee, and an electric flash of pleasure shot through Sherlock's nerves. "You're pretty amazing, Mister Holmes," said the Warrior earnestly. "A genius and bloody gorgeous to boot. Maybe your friend likes you but he thinks you're too good for _him_."

Sherlock smiled sadly. "You obviously don't know me at all."

"Well, if your idiot flatmate doesn't make a move on you first...I'd like to." The Justice Warrior winked at him.

Sherlock's heart legitimately stopped beating. His breath caught in his throat.

"Come on," said the Warrior, carefully scooping him up again. "Let's get you home. 221B Baker Street, yeah?"

The Warrior flew him home and set him down on the stoop of 221B. Sherlock had fully regained his motor skills and could stand up on his own. "Now, promise me you'll try harder to stay out of trouble?" the Warrior requested.

Sherlock smiled. "Not a chance."

The Warrior laughed. "Worth a shot. Goodnight, Mister Holmes." And he was gone. Sherlock watched him fly away, almost wistfully.

A couple of minutes after Sherlock had eased himself upstairs, John came home from the clinic. His eyes widened at his flatmate's disheveled state. "Sherlock, what happened?!"

"A minor kerfuffle with the London Skinner. Lucky for me the Justice Warrior was there just in time to apprehend him."

"Oh," said John, rolling his eyes. "Your boyfriend to the rescue again, eh?"

"He's not my boyfriend, John," said Sherlock, rolling his eyes.

"Seems like he's got a thing for you if you ask me," said John, settling on the couch.

A thought occurred to Sherlock. He smirked. "What, are you jealous or something?"

John laughed derisively. "Yeah right. What could I possibly have to be jealous about?"

"Hmm." Sherlock doubted it. Maybe there was hope after all. "Well, I'm off to shower."

"Careful with those bandages," John warned as he was hobbling out of the room.

"Yes, yes, of cour-" Sherlock froze. His bandage was hidden under his trouser leg. "How did you know about my bandage?" he asked.

John froze. "Uh...I..."

Then it dawned on Sherlock.

Oh.

 _OH_.

Well, it was obvious, wasn't it? They'd never been in the same room together, same build, same aftershave, same lovely dark eyes, _same wink_ -

Justice Warrior.  _JW._

"I'm an idiot," Sherlock breathed, clambering into John's lap, taking up his face in his hands, and snogging the living daylights out of him.

John laughed into the kiss. "Was wondering when you'd figure it out!"

"Well, it was only a matter of time till I'd put the pieces together," said Sherlock haughtily, blushing a little.

"Oh, a wee bit embarrassed for not figuring it out sooner, are we? Admit it, love, you had no idea it was me," said John, tracing his thumb over the swell of Sherlock's lower lip. Sherlock's blush deepened. John grinned up at him and leaned forward to murmur in his ear: "Don't worry. You're still my clever, pretty detective."

Sherlock sighed as John nuzzled his neck. The army captain - doctor - blogger - superhero was apparently good at  _everything_ , including the amorous arts. He seemed to know just where to lick and nip to make pleasurable tingles shoot up and down Sherlock's spine. John sucked at the spot just behind Sherlock's left earlobe, drawing a moan from him. Then, Sherlock remembered something and he began to chuckle.

"What's so funny, love?" John asked, looking up at him. "Am I tickling you?"

"No, no - well, yes, a little - no, I was just thinking of...' _knew the blog_ '." Sherlock shook his head in amusement. "John Watson, I will never accuse you of being a bad liar ever again."

"I fooled the great Sherlock Holmes. Guess that means I'm safe from anyone else finding out my secret identity." John gestured to his unassuming persona. "Who would suspect plain old, boring, frumpy John Watson of being a superhero? It's the perfect disguise."

"I still can't believe you used your alter ego to flirt with me. Honestly, John," Sherlock teased.

Now it was John's turn to blush. "Yeah, well. I thought the Warrior would impress you. Talking to you as the famous superhero gave me confidence I don't normally have. Like I said, I'm just an ordinary bloke. Why the hell would Sherlock Holmes be interested in me?"

Sherlock kissed him, hard. "John, there is  _nothing_ ordinary about you. You're absolutely amazing, superpowers aside. Do you think I'd bother with someone I found boring? I meant what I said to the Warrior - I think _you're_ too good for _me_. You're the most extraordinary human being I've ever met. You didn't need special abilities or a flashy costume to impress me. You already impress me by being your good-hearted, exemplary, courageous, perseverent, resourceful self. I didn't fall in love with the Warrior. I was already in love with John Watson."

John's denim-colored eyes were the size of dinner platters, burning bright with happiness and adoration. "You honestly feel that way?" he said in awe.

Sherlock smiled at him. "John Watson, you're my hero."


End file.
